Husband by Choice

She couldn’t go in the bedroom she’d shared with Max because her time there had been a farce. Based on lies.

Her lies.

To herself.

And to him.

And the only way she could right this most atrocious wrong, was to go back to Steve. She had to find a way to get him to let go of her, to somehow convince him that he wanted to let her go, or she would die trying.

She wasn’t sure what her chances of success were. She might live. And she might not. But she didn’t have anything to give to anyone until she rid her life of the demon.

Maybe she’d hoped, by going home that day, that she’d find out she’d been sabotaging her own life. That she’d prevented herself from being happy out of a sense of misplaced guilt.

Maybe, in the back of her heart, she’d planned a welcome home dinner for her husband that night—preceded by a phone call of course so he could prepare their son. And so she could be certain she was still welcome home.

Maybe she’d hoped that she could go back two weeks and pretend that Steve Smith didn’t exist.

What she’d hoped was that the past two weeks had been a product of her mind playing games with her. She’d hoped that she could end the madness and crawl back into bed with the man she loved.

She’d let emotion take over, had tried to justify giving up on her plan by telling herself that there was no need to confront Steve. She’d given in to the weakness that would probably always plague her, the need to be cared for, to not be alone. To the temptation to lose herself in the love she shared with Max, at the possible cost of his life.

No. She could not risk being responsible for the death of another human being.

And she knew a way to prevent herself from waltzing back into her home and taking up residence again.

Quickly, so she wouldn’t have time to change her mind, she reached into the bag she’d taken with her, pulled out the little metal tin, and placed it where she knew for certain that Max would find it.

And then she sneaked out the back door, and went around the shed, through the shrubbery....

And heard the bushes move behind her.

Turning, she thought she saw a branch move, but couldn’t be sure. She picked up her pace, taking a different route than usual, cutting through yards she didn’t know, and as she changed course, rounding a three-car garage, she saw a flash of color. Someone had just ducked behind the other side of the building.

Someone she recognized.

That was when Jenna stopped thinking and acted. Purely on instinct. Sliding in and out of places that should be too small for her to fit. Sucking in her breath, running without making a sound, climbing a half brick wall and hiding behind it until she heard footsteps go past.

She waited some more. To make certain they didn’t come back. That he didn’t come back.

Running, keeping an eye on her surroundings, staying one step ahead, was familiar.

She’d eluded him.

For now.

But she knew who he was. She’d seen his face. And she was done being hunted like an animal.

Soon, she was going to be stalking him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“MAX? IT’S CHANTEL.”

He knew that. He might be driving, but his phone was hooked up through a device in the car that let him speak through the stereo. And the stereo displayed the caller’s ID.

“I’m in the car with Caleb,” he said quickly, glancing in the rearview mirror at his son. He’d just picked up Caleb from day care and the boy had been listless. Was he coming down with something?

At the moment, he was sucking on his thumb and staring out the window. The whole thumb-sucking thing. They’d broken him of it. But sometime over the past week or so he had started doing it again.